Sinking to the Floor
by A Thing For Brothers
Summary: Post Lucifer Rising. Sam is feeling guilty about killing Lilith and setting Lucifer free. Afraid that Dean hates him, he goes to extreme measures. Warning: attempted suicide. Lots of brother moments and Dean comforting Sam.


**Hello! This is my first Supernatural fic! I'm very excited about this. This was originally a gift to my wonderful friend, but we decided it'd be worth sharing with you as well. I have not even seen season four, but from videos and fanfiction stories, I pieced together enough information to base this off of Lucifer Rising. It's not directly related to the episode. I changed a couple things for the story, but nothing that dramatically affects the show. This is also loosely based off the song "You Found Me" by The Fray. I hope you enjoy this! I'm kinda nervous posting my first Supernatural story! Anyway, enjoy!**

**I own nothing. Kripke wasn't selling.**

Sam Winchester stared down at the floor as the chasm grew. The bright light shone into his eyes and momentarily blinded him until he covered his eyes with his hands. Ruby's body lay on the floor. He had taken her life, as surely as she had taken his ... only he still drew in air. Too stunned, he ran away from what was happening. He didn't want to be there when Lucifer rose out of that hole.

Sam's breathing turned beyond shallow. His chest tightened and squeezed like someone was strangling him from the inside. His heart beat at an irregularly fast pace and he bent and grasped his knees. It was hard for him to stand as he crossed the street, running away. He stared at the street signs as he walked on, ignoring the rest of the world.

Sam didn't know where to go. His natural instinct was to tell Dean, but Dean wasn't going to be there this time. He couldn't go to Dean. Not after what he'd done. Sam felt like he was losing himself. He and his brother had fought enough times in their lives but never like they had the other night. Sam had never gotten so violent. He was never the one to strike first it seemed. Dean was the physical one, not Sam. Sam worked through his heart, not his fist. He thought out everything he did, never acted on impulse like Dean. But when he hit Dean it had felt good. He had choked and nearly killed his brother. At the time, it felt good. It made him feel strong. But as he drove away from the only one who was ever there for him unconditionally, his stomach just felt sick. He convinced himself it was for the best. That he could handle Lilith with Ruby. He didn't need anything else, didn't need Dean. But then Dean had called and Sam knew he was in trouble. Dean said he was going to kill him, not in so many words but the meaning rang loud and clear. Dean, his own brother, wanted to kill him. Sam had set free Lucifer. He had nearly killed his brother and trusted a demon over Dean. He didn't blame Dean for wanting to kill him. Sam wondered if he was going to turn completely evil. There really was nothing left to worry about. He had nothing else to live for while the devil was coming to end the world.

Sam made his way back to his motel. He sank to the floor and took deep gulping breaths. His eyes misted in tears as he trembled. It was times like this that Dean would comfort him. Dean would tell him it'd be okay, squeeze his shoulder, maybe even hold him. But not now. Now his only comfort was gone. He had destroyed his family. He had severed that relationship the minute he started trusting a demon. He should have known she was trouble. Ruby was a demon. Demons lie. She lied about being able to save Dean from hell. He should have killed her then, but he had been weak, too weak to go on without his brother there.

Sam's hands began to shake as he managed to push himself into a standing position. He stumbled to the bed and fell face first upon it. Trembling, he reached out and grabbed his knife under the pillow, a habit acquired from Dean. Tears began to fall freely now as he drew the blade out of its sheath. The silver reflected the lights in the motel room and Sam caught a glimpse of himself. He quickly dropped the knife and it fell to the floor with a loud thump in the silence. He reached out and grabbed his bag and withdrew a pen and paper and wrote his last apology.

* * *

Dean got to St. Mary's as the convent began to crumble and shake. He tried desperately to get through, hoping he'd find Sam there. He called out to his brother, made one quick sweep of the building before the walls started to crumble. The blinding light from a back room piqued his curiosity, but there had been no time. Dean had to get out.

Now he was on a mission. He had to find Sam. His brother had never called back. Castiel said they had to stop him from killing Lillith, but Dean feared they were already too late for that. He could recognize something supernatural when he saw it and the convent was definitely not supposed to crumble in on itself like that. As Dean ran outside the building, he screamed his brother's name.

"SAMMY!" Dean shouted at the top of his lungs, hoping and praying that Sam was near. He searched the area surrounding St. Mary's, hoping Sam wasn't inside as the building began to fall.

"Damn it, Sam, where are you?" Dean asked out loud as he looked around in a full circle. When he couldn't find his brother, he went off in search of him in the only other place that made sense. A motel.

As if he just wished it there, his baby appeared on the street across from him. He ran to it and got in the driver's seat and took off.

Dean barely made it a few miles when he found his first motel. Turning into the parking lot, he ran inside and asked if Sam Winchester was in. He knew that Sam wouldn't use that alias, but he had to give it a try. He managed to distract the woman working check-ins long enough to get her to leave so he could check the list. When he found no name like Sam's many alias, he turned and ran away leaving before the woman even returned.

Three motels later, Dean was ready to give Cas another try. He had been wrong about his brother's location the first time, but he would give him another chance if it meant finding Sam. He had to find his brother. He had to let him know he was sorry and that he wanted to make it right. He had to. Sam had left. He had told Sam not to ever come back. As soon as the words left his mouth he knew he didn't mean it. It was so much more than that. He was scared. He was hurt. He was embarrassed. But he didn't mean it. Not a word. Sam was the only family he had. How could he repeat the words that had haunted Sam for years? He was not his father. Not by a long shot. Dean had always been Sam's comfort, more of a father than John ever could be. How could he have just broken that by telling Sam to never come back? How could he ever want that? He didn't. Sam was his only family left. There was no way he'd just throw that away, not after all he'd sacrificed to ensure Sam's safety, his life. He'd gone to hell and back for Sam. There was no turning back now.

* * *

Sam's lip quivered as the salty liquid rolled down and off his chin. He stared down at the paper he was quickly staining with tears. He filled the lines with words that would never be enough, words that would never tell how truly sorry he really was. Would Dean ever even get the chance to read them? Would he even care? Sam wondered.

As the last line was filled with the echoing finality of his life, Sam set down his pen and leaned back. Sucking in a shaky breath, he wiped his eyes with both hands, swiping away the tears. As he exhaled a long sigh, he stood up and paced the floor. Staring at the glinting blade, he tried to think of something to talk himself out of it. But at the moment, there was nothing he could think of that gave him a reason to live. Without Dean, he had no family, except Bobby. But Bobby would take Dean's side as soon as he heard what Sam had done. Then his whole family would be gone, and there'd be nothing for him. So what was the point? Dean was his reason for going on. When his brother came back from hell, Sam thought things would change for the better. His life should have gone back to normal, but it never really had.

Knowing Dean was out there somewhere, hunting him, Sam knew he had to just end it himself. Just the sight of his brother ready to kill him would be enough to end his life. Sam never wanted to experience that, never wanted to see that kind of hatred from his brother. So with more determination than he felt, Sam walked up to the bed, reached down, and grabbed the handle of the blade.

His tears blinded him and he fought to keep them away. Blinking hard, his tears ran down the blade of his knife. He stared as the droplet ran down the handle to the tip and fell off, leaving the shiny metal streaked. He tried to focus on anything but the pain, the torment that was churning inside him, killing him from the inside out. Sam knew that one of the only other ways he could distract himself from the inner pain, was to cause an outer pain like no other.

With a determined clench to his jaw, Sam brought the blade down on his wrists. It took him a moment to find the strength to apply more pressure, but as soon as the blood started to leave the wound, he felt some of the ache inside dull. Pressing hard, he dragged the knife across his flesh, leaving a deep, open gash in its wake. Wincing, Sam breathed hard and fast against the pain, almost relishing in it for it felt good to know he was finally getting what he deserved.

Before his arm became too weak, Sam switched hands and cut into his other arm. Blood began to pour out faster than he expected, and he took advice from the ghoul that disguised itself as his younger brother. He fought against it. He clenched and unclenched his fists, watching with perverse fascination as the blood dripped off his arm and stained the carpet in bloody patterns. As he flexed his arms, the blood ran in thick streams off his arm. As the blood left his body, Sam slowly became weaker and weaker and finally sank to his knees on the floor.

Groaning, Sam flipped over on his side. Wincing in pain, he reached out and grabbed his knife from under the bed where it fell. It was never supposed to end this way, but now that it was time, Sam wanted it to be over. At the same time, he wanted to suffer. He deserved it. He didn't deserve to get out easy. He should feel every painful stab of his knife. Sam picked up his knife and brought it back to his skin. As the blade touched down on his left biceps, his hand cramped and weakened. The skin was turning pale as he lost blood and he closed his eyes and laid back down on his back weakly. Tears stung his eyes and fell out of the outside corners of his eyes until they dripped down past his ears. The heat from his tears was the only warmth he felt as he shivered on the floor. His arms left puddles of blood underneath him and it smeared on the hardwood floor as he moved around.

"Just let it be over. Please," Sam cried to himself. He was ready to be gone. Heaven or hell, he was ready. It no longer mattered to him. While he would prefer Heaven, he knew people like him deserved hell. After what he had done to his brother, after what he had cost the world, he deserved the harshest tortures in the deepest pits of hell. Sam knew he would never get an offer like Dean did. He would never deserve to get off the rack. He wouldn't do the torture. People who started the end of the world didn't get opportunities like that. It was only for the good ones. The ones who sacrificed themselves, like Dean did.

Sobbing, Sam's tears started falling harder as he thought of what his brother had done for him. Dean had given up his life for Sam. He had gone to hell to save him. He'd been there for forty years. How could Sam have just let him do that for him? And then Dean returned and Sam just stabbed him right in the back, punishing him for loving him. How could he trust a demon over Dean? Ruby had never cared about him. She only cared about her own motives, secretly working for Lillith the whole time. Sam was ready to stab himself for being so blind.

Sam's eyes started to get heavy as his blood turned inside out. Closing his eyes, he wondered if he could just fall asleep, maybe he'd never wake up. His thoughts were interrupted though when he heard someone pounding on the door.

"SAM! Open the damn door! NOW!" Dean's voice called to him angrily from the other side of the door.

Sam whimpered in fear. Dean was here to end him. He'd found him. Shaking with fear and weakness, Sam stood and walked to the door as his brother continued to pound on it. As his arms hung limply at his sides, he felt the blood fall down his arms and pool in his hands.

The pounding stopped long enough for him to open the door. He stared blankly at his brother, who looked about as angry as he'd ever seen him; which if Sam was thinking, he would have recognized as Dean's way of showing his concern.

"Go away, Dean. I already took care of it. I'll be dead soon so now you don't have to do it. Bye." Sam had to use all of his will to push the door closed.

"SAM!" Dean shouted as he caught the door and tore it open. Sam turned back to him and started to fall. Dean stared in horror as he saw the blood covering his brother, the floor, the knife. He barely had time to relax as Sam began to crumple to the floor. Dean ran forward and grabbed his brother, catching him.

"Sam! Sammy! SAM!" Dean shouted as he fell down to the floor with his brother, cushioning the fall.

Sam looked up at his brother with confusion filling his eyes. Dean's face hovered above his, worry and fear written all over it. Now Sam was really confused. Why would Dean be worried about him? Something else must have been on his mind, like the end of the world.

"Sammy, what did you do?!" Dean hissed as he quickly tore off his leather jacket and navy button-down shirt. He considered taking off his t-shirt too as he saw how quickly the fabric was stained with the thick red liquid.

"What you were going to do..." Sam responded as he lay weakly across his brother's lap.

"What?! Sam, I would never do something like this. What were you thinking?" Dean was screaming, but he wasn't angry. He couldn't be mad at Sam. Not when his brother lay dying in his arms.

Sam swallowed hard. His mouth was so dry. "You called... said you were done trying to save me."

Dean shook his head. "I never said that. I called you, but that's not what I said. Not by far."

Sam frowned. "Then who?"

"I don't know, but it wasn't me. You gotta believe me, Sam. As long as I live, I will _never_ be done trying to save you. Got it? Like right now I have to save your ass because you thought it'd be smart to play tic tac toe on your arms."

Sam managed a weak laugh. "Don't bother. I don't deserve saving anyway."

Dean felt another pang to his heart. "The hell you talking about? You're my brother, so by rights you deserve to be saved."

Sam shook his head and his tears started again. He winced as Dean's hands tightened on his arms, clotting the bleeding. "I don't deserve it, Dean. I'm nothing. I started this. I set Lucifer free."

Dean shrugged. "Honest mistake. Come on, Sammy. You're not seriously expecting me to let you just die are you? 'Cause you know I can't do that."

Sam nodded. "You have to. I don't deserve to live anymore."

"So you say.. Ever think I might have a different opinion?"

Sam's eyes glistened. "No, 'cause I thought you hated me."

Dean bit his lip in pain and anger. "Never, Sammy. Never. You can hit me all you want, kid, but I am _never_ going to hate you. You're my brother. That's never gonna change."

Dean could hardly stand to look down at his brother. How could Sam have done something so stupid? Dean had regretted telling Sam to never come back the moment the words left his mouth, but that still didn't explain the call Sam got. No matter how mad they were at each other, no matter what Sam did, he would never be able to take his brother's life. It went against everything he ever thought and believed. It went against every fiber of his being. There was nothing in this world that would cause him to end his brother's life. How could Sam have believed that? Dean felt the guilt settle into his stomach and he grasped his brother's arms tighter, feeling the blood reach his hands.

"Damn it, Sam! Stop bleeding, would you?" Dean asked, tightening his hold again until Sam started to writhe.

"No, Dean. Let go!" Sam cried, trying to pull his arms free of his brother's grasp.

Dean locked his finger around his brother's forearms and shook Sam a little to get his attention. When Sam met his eyes, Dean's were hard and determined. "NO, Sam. I'm not going to let you die, understand me? I won't!"

"You have to let me go," Sam said weakly, closing his eyes.

"DAMN IT, SAM! NO! You are not going to leave me like this, you understand me? Not like this! I did not spend forty years in hell for you to leave me alone!"

Sam's eyes shone with tears. "I'm sorry, Dean, but everyone ends up alone. You left me, Dean. You went to hell. I was alone. I lost Mom, Jessica, Dad, you, Ruby. We all gotta be alone some time. It's just your turn."

Dean blinked hard against tears, unwilling to let them fall. He wasn't allowed to cry. He only cried when someone died – if then – and he sure as hell wasn't going to let Sam die. He refused.

"Not now, Sammy. Please." Dean was begging now, something he did about as much as he cried. He looked away from his brother, noticing the blood that seemed to outline where they sat on the floor. If he had just glanced at it, he would have sworn it was the pattern of a devil's trap. He wouldn't put it past his brother. Even dying Sam would find a purpose.

"Keep pressure on that," Dean ordered, giving Sam a stern look as he got out his cell phone. He quickly dialed 9-1-1 and talked to the operator. He watched his brother's eyes droop and his strength waver. Dean wedged the cellphone between his ear and shoulder while he kept pressure on Sam's cuts. When he got off the phone with the operator, Sam was no longer responding.

"Sammy! Sam! Wake up, damnit!" Dean shouted angrily at his brother, shaking him. "Damn it, Sam. You can't do this to me. Not again."

Dean closed his eyes as he held his brother. He adjusted Sam to rest against his chest and he buried his face in his brother's hair, hiding the fact that he was starting to cry.

"Sam, I can't do this. I can't do this again. I've watched you die once already, please don't make me do it again. I know you saw me die plenty of times when that damn trickster got to us. But I just _can't. _You're stronger than me, Sam. I'm just not strong enough to do that. I've never been able to handle you hurting. It makes me crazy! I never feel more useless than when you're hurt. I just want to make it go away, and I can't do that when you're hurting yourself! I can't beat up the one who hurt you. Damn it, Sam. Why'd you have to do that? I didn't mean a damn word I said. I don't care if you want to hit me again and again. I'll take every last one if it means you'll let yourself off the hook. I never meant it when I told you if you left to never come back. I would never say that. I was scared, Sammy! I was scared I was losing you and I was mad because Ruby was interfering. She got in the way and I wanted my brother back. Please, Sam. Don't punish me for that. Don't punish yourself. You're good, Sam. I know you shouldn't have been doing what you were, but you were confused. I know you did it for good reasons. You shouldn't have trusted Ruby, I know. But that's not worth dying over!"

Dean wiped his eyes off with his upper arm as he held his Sammy tighter. "Don't leave me, Sammy. I need you. I can't go saving the world without you. Please hang on... for me if nothing else."

As Dean finished his monologue, he heard the sirens wailing in the distance. Soon the crew was there and came barreling in, taking his baby brother from him. Dean let his cold arms hang limply as he waited to get in the back of the ambulance. When he sat down by his brother, he ached to hold Sam's hand. But there were needles there. And there was blood everywhere. He didn't know where he could touch that wouldn't be in the way, that wouldn't hurt Sam. Dean decided to hold onto Sam's ankle in the meantime. It would have to suffice.

As quickly as the emergency room doors opened, the next set of doors were closed as they took Sam where Dean couldn't follow. Dean stood in the hallway leading to the doors, willing his eyes to somehow gain the skill of x-ray vision, so maybe he could catch a glimpse of his brother. He needed to see Sam, needed to know Sam was okay.

During a lull in the hospital traffic, Dean decided to screw the rules. He walked behind the doors clearly marked for hospital personnel only and searched for his brother. What he found succeeded in bringing him to his knees.

Dean could see the defibrillator as it touched his brother's chest. Sammy arched off the bed and slammed back down, lifeless. Dean sank to the floor and stared in horror. As the doctors repeated the process over and over again, Sam's heart refused to beat. Dean was about to go jump off the hospital roof when he stood up with determination. Though his heart was ripping in half, he walked out of the hospital and got in his car and started driving 100 miles per hour, knowing the only place to go at a time like this.

* * *

Sam was about ready to kill the damn cricket when he realized that the annoying noise was his heart monitor. Blearily opening his eyes, Sam found a maze of tubes and wires covering the air above him. He tracked some of them back to his arms, which were heavily bandaged. He felt more than saw the absence of his brother, so he sat up higher to search the area. When Dean wasn't found, Sam almost wondered if he had dreamed the whole thing. But then he saw his brother's bloody jacket and shirt sitting on a table. They were the ones that clotted the bleeding, that helped keep him from bleeding to death. Was Dean around? Sam wanted to know.

As Sam wanted to get up and go look, Castiel appeared before him, startling him.

"Cas? What are you doing here?"

"I need your help. It's Dean."

"What? What's wrong with Dean?" Sam asked, desperate for an answer.

"He thinks you're dying. He's on his way to make a deal with the crossroads demon again."

Sam's eyes widened in shock and horror. "What? Why would he think that? I'm fine now!"

"I don't know. I suspect someone else is involved, but I can't be sure. We need to hurry."

"The crossroads is miles away. We'll never make it in time," Sam said, fear growing as he realized he may not be able to stop his brother from making a very foolish mistake.

"Take my hand," Castiel said, holding out his hand to Sam. Unsure, Sam reached out and took Cas' hand, not knowing what was about to happen.

* * *

Dean brought the Impala to a harsh stop, hearing the gravel grind beneath the wheels, and barely put it in park before he rushed out and to the trunk. He quickly took out a tin box and filled it, making sure he added his fake Jerry Garcia ID. He ran with the box to the crossroads, burying it in the gravel. He stood and watched impatiently for the demon to appear.

"Come on, you bitch!" Dean shouted as he grew more impatient with each passing second. He looked left, right, forward, behind him, but the demon was not there. As he turned around to do a 360, when he came back around he found the dark-haired bitch behind him.

"About time," Dean growled.

"Sorry. I was having too much fun watching you sweat." The demon took a few steps toward him, her tight black dress swishing as she walked purposefully.

"I want Sam alive, for good this time!" Dean barked, cutting to the chase.

"Dean, Dean, Dean. You really think you have anything to give me? You've already been to hell once and got out. How am I to know that little angel friend of yours isn't going to get you out again?"

"I won't let him. I don't want back out. I just want my brother alive."

The demon eyed him skeptically. "Who knew Dean Winchester had such a soft spot? You do know all the things that Sammy did, right? I mean, he's no better than say, a demon."

Dean was ready to put a bullet in this bitch. "That doesn't matter to me. I just want him to be alive, okay? I don't care how long you give me. I'm ready to go now. Just let my brother live."

"You are loyal, aren't you? Sammy drank demon blood. He chose a demon over you, beat you down, nearly killed you. He walked out on you, just like everyone else has. This wasn't even the first time he'd left you. And then he killed Lillith, and set free Lucifer? He's done all that to you and you're still willing to save his life again? I never would have thought you'd be one to side with a demon." Her eyes flashed black as she blinked and Dean lunged toward her.

"He's my brother you demonic bitch! I'd give my life for him a thousand times if I had the chance! This is the second time, and I don't care if I don't get any other chances. Just let him live!" Dean's whole body tensed, sick of hearing this bitch talk about his brother like that.

The demon smiled, unfazed. "Fine. You want to risk your life for a demon, that's your choice. I'm just hear to make the deal."

"My life for Sammy's. No getting out of it this time. No heroic rescues from Cas. Nothing. Just that."

The demon smiled brightly, her dark red lipstick stretching with her smile. "Perfect. You've already given your life once. I can't give you any time with your precious brother this time."

"I don't care. I'm ready now. Just save my brother."

"Deal?"

"Deal." Dean took a step toward the demonic bitch, disgusted that the last person he'd kiss before he died would be this sorry excuse for a demon.

The demon smiled and came closer, reaching her hand up to grasp Dean's head. As Dean leaned down, he was interrupted by an all-too-familiar voice calling his name.

"Sam?" Dean shoved the bitch away from him and looked toward his brother. He found Sammy, still in his hospital gown, weakly walking toward him. Sam was barefoot, walking on gravel. Sam's stumbled steps scared Dean and he ran up to his brother, his heart racing faster than his feet.

"Dean," Sam said weakly, smiling when he saw his brother running toward him. He looked down at his arms, seeing his IV and blood transfusion missing. He wondered if that had anything to do with how weak he was. He felt like a damn puppy.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted because when he got a few steps from his brother, Sam leaned too far left and fell on his side. Dean ran up and grabbed his brother, propping him up against his bent legs.

"Sammy? What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were dead!" Dean shouted, watching his brother suspiciously, almost expecting this to be some kind of trick.

"Not dead, Dean. I'm here to save your ass for a change."

Dean looked over his shoulder at the demon and then back down at his brother. He managed a weak smile. "You couldn't have come a little sooner?"

"What? Why? Did you make the deal?" Sam asked hurriedly as he sat up, starting to panic.

"No, no. I was just about to when you came on the scene," Dean said, trying to calm his brother.

"Thank God." Sam sighed and weakly laid back down.

"Dude, don't you ever do something like that to me again, you hear me?" Dean's words were said lightly, but the deeper meaning was heard loud and clear. Sam nodded against his brother's pant leg, letting his tears fall once again.

"God, Sam. I'm going to get old before my time," Dean sighed, shaking his head of the worry.

Sam smiled. "Sorry, jerk."

"Shut up, bitch." Dean smiled too and looked up. "Guess we'd better get your sorry ass back to the hospital."

"Sounds good... Will you be there?"

Dean smiled and nodded. "Where else would I be?"

* * *

In the following days at the hospital, Dean had to convince his brother that he was worth saving and that what he did was not entirely his fault. It had been a mistake, nothing worth killing himself over. They had never figured out exactly how Dean's voicemail was changed, or how Dean saw Sam dying when he had never coded. It was confusing to the brothers, but they trusted each other enough to know that the other wouldn't lie about something as serious as that. When Dean finally was able to leave the hospital with Sam, they returned to the motel room. While Sam made a beeline for the bathroom, Dean walked to the bed, nauseous at the sight of the blood stains on the bed and floor. He stepped over it and was about to take out the gun he knew Sam kept in the drawer beside his bed when he found a letter addressed to him on top of it. Frowning, he wondered who would be writing him a letter, when he recognized Sam's handwriting.

Dean sank onto the bed as he unfolded the tear-stained paper. The ink had run together in a few spots where Sam's tears had smudged the words. But the message was still clear, and it made the words that much more powerful knowing that Sam had sat there crying while he wrote them.

_Dear Dean,_

_I'm sorry it had to end this way. I never meant to set Lucifer free. I never should have trusted Ruby. I had to kill her for what she had done. She tricked me, just like you knew she would. I'm sorry I didn't see it. I know that you want to hunt me down and you're done trying to save me. I don't blame you. I know I've done some horrible things. I never meant to hurt you like I did. I never meant to screw things up so badly. Please understand that I really did start doing it for the right reasons. You were gone and I didn't know how to go on without you. I needed someone to help me get through and Ruby was there. I guess I wasn't ready to let go of her. I know that was wrong. I know the demon blood was wrong. I wish I had seen sooner. I want you to know that I love you. I know we don't say that and you always say "no chick flick moments" but I can't help but tell you now. Because now I know you no longer love me. You're on your way to kill me and I don't want you to ever have to do that. Even if you hate me that's not something any brother should have to do to his brother. So I'm taking matters into my own hands. I'm sorry I couldn't make you proud. It's all I've ever wanted to do. Take care of Bobby for me. I'm sorry.-Sam_

Dean's face scrunched up in anger as he breathed harshly, fighting back tears. He heard Sam open the door to the bathroom and step out.

"Man, I feel better. Let's get the hell out of here," Sam said as he started to throw his dirty clothes in his duffel. He looked toward his brother and frowned in concern. "You okay?"

Dean slammed his fist down on the desk in front of him. "What the hell were you thinking writing this? You stupid son of a bitch!" Dean shouted angrily, though he was really only anger that his brother made him feel this way. No one else could drive him so completely insane as his brother. No one else could make his heart break into a million pieces and make him want to scream, cry, or laugh as much as Sam. He was his brother and sometimes he drove him nuts. But not now. Now Dean just wanted to throttle him for making him feel so helpless and remind him how close he came to losing his brother.

"What'd I do?" Sam asked, looking a little frightened.

"THIS! You did this! Damn it, Sam, how could you do something like this? You're my brother! How could I ever want to kill you? Dad was an ASS, okay?! He never should have told me that I'd either have to save you or kill you because as soon as he told me that, I knew there was no choice in the matter! I'm going to save you. That's it! Because that's my job! You're my little brother and I've always done everything in my power to protect you. But then you went and did this? Sammy, I can't protect you from yourself. I can't do that when the only person to blame is you. I can't fight you or beat you up for hurting my brother. You made a mistake, I know that. You're only human. Hell, I broke the first seal! If anything, I'm to blame for setting Lucifer free! You can't put the blame all on yourself. And damn it, Sam, you've _always_ made me proud. You're the only thing I've done right in my life and I never stopped thinking that, even when you knocked the shit out of me. It doesn't matter, Sam. Nothing matters but you and me. You're my brother and that's never going to change. I love you, damn it!"

Sam stared at his brother in shock, his mouth hanging open as tears filled his eyes. Dean had never been so open. Though his words were shouted in anger, Sam knew his brother well enough to know that he really wasn't mad. It was fear and love that drove him. He hated that he made his brother feel so helpless. It wasn't his intention. At the time suicide had seemed the best option, the _only_ option. But now he realized how foolish he'd been. He never would do something like that to Dean. He couldn't.

"I'm sorry," Sam whispered brokenly.

Dean dropped his arms to his sides and sighed. He walked up to his brother and grasped Sam's shoulders in his hands. "Stop saying you're sorry, Sammy. It's okay. I forgave you a long time ago, man. I know you, Sam, better than anyone. You put too much on yourself. You don't have to. This wasn't your fault, okay? Hell if anyone, blame the bitch Ruby."

"Well, I already wasted her, so I can't blame her too much." Sam tried to lighten the mood.

Dean smiled. "That's my boy." He patted Sam's cheek and turned to walk away.

"Dean," Sam said. As his brother turned to look at him, Sam swooped in and hugged Dean tightly to him. Dean held his brother back, tightening his grip. He closed his eyes a moment to relish the moment for what it was. His brother was alive. He was safe and making a full recovery. They had gotten the heck out of Dodge when the doctors talked about a psychiatric evaluation. They were free to leave now. Things could go back to being normal, or as normal as they could be with Lucifer on the run.

"I love you, Dean," Sam said as he hugged Dean tighter, hiding his tears.

"Whatever, bitch," Dean pushed away, feeling the moment getting _way_ too chick flicky for his taste.

"Jerk."


End file.
